


Lost And Found.

by ZedWishes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Also A Crush On Martin, Also Rosie Appreciation :), And Jon Has A Mild Affinity For Vintage Cars, Jon Has Chronic Back Pain And A Cane, Jon has Anxiety, M/M, Medication, Only One Mention Lol, season 1-era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZedWishes/pseuds/ZedWishes
Summary: Jon loses his cane.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 3
Kudos: 126





	Lost And Found.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! This is my first finished TMA fic. I really liked the Jon with a cane headcanon so I decided to do my own little spin on it. Credit for the idea goes to @asexualarchivist on Tumblr, and my own is @thecrawlingrot. Hope ppl enjoy this :pensive:

Jon had lost his cane.

When he woke up, he expected his cane to be propped up against his bedside table. However, when he reached his hand over to grab it, it wasn't there. He just felt the oak wood of the medium-sized table, and almost immediately started to panic. His back pain was already flaring up and he desperately needed his cane. It didn't ease the pain by any means, but it did help him get around a lot easier than without it. 

He grabbed his glasses from the table and put them on, his vision clearing so he could properly see if he missed his cane or if it was truly gone. It has a plain purple shaft with a black, curved head adorned with white stripes, so it would be pretty easy to tell if it was missing. And it was. If Jon was already panicking horribly before, his panic had increased twofold, and it had culminated into an actual panic attack.

He got up quickly and ran to his bathroom, the pain becoming almost unbearable. He was used to the pain, but without his cane it was easy to ignore, and obviously he was without it now. He pulled open the mirror at the top of the sink which opened up to his medicine cabinet. He grabbed his anxiety and pain medication, dry swallowing both sets of pills in two gulps. Taking a few deep breaths, he finally calmed down from his panic attack. It was fine. He would ask around the Institute. Maybe Tim took it as a prank, or something. If it was true, it would be a cruel one, but unintentionally malicious at best. Or maybe he simply left it in the Archives. The latter was more likely, as Tim and his co-workers knew how much their boss suffered without his cane. 

Jon decided to get himself together and try to have a good day at work. He never liked calling in sick, and he could tell Elias got mildly annoyed by it whenever he did. Probably because the Archives were such a cluttered mess, and even one day off could impact the order of the place. Well, it didn't matter, Jon thought as he began to brush his teeth. He wasn't going to be calling in sick today, so what was the point of worrying about it? 

When Jon was finished getting ready and looked in the mirror to reflect on his outfit, he looked worse for wear. His worry over the whereabouts of his cane caused him to just throw on whatever semi-respectable piece of clothing was lying around, which included: A plain white shirt with a black cardigan covering it, black khakis that he's been meaning to donate due to the tightness, and black, fingerless gloves. He had also put his hair into a ponytail to avoid its length interfering with his vision. Jon sighed, and after tightening the ponytail once, walked downstairs and out the door.

When the chill of the December cold hit his skin, Jon instinctively put his hand into a fist. Usually when it was this cold, he would grip his cane tightly. It didn't do anything, but it would usually comfort him. This time, though, there was nothing to grasp except the unoccupied air. Jon looked at his closed fist sadly and walked to his car. It was a classic black Mini Cooper car with a white roof. These kinds of cars were usually very expensive, but Jon got lucky at an auction once. He had always taken an interest in vintage vehicles, so owning this was something of a great achievement for him. Despite his current predicament Jon couldn't help but smile as he got into the car, and soon he was driving to work. 

Impatience gnawed at him as Jon drove the two miles to the Institute. He lived relatively close, but it still felt like an eternity had passed when he finally pulled up to the small building. He parked his car in the special employee lot and slammed the door shut as he slid out. The pain was still there, as it always was, but Jon was doing a good job at ignoring it, especially without his cane. He speedwalked to the front door of the Institute and opened it, entering the long corridor that greeted him every single day. He signed into the front desk, expecting Rosie to already be in, but she wasn't. It was then that Jon realized he hadn't even looked at a clock due to all of his worrying. He glanced at the clock that hung above the front door, where he found out it was only 6 o'clock on the dot. He was two hours early. It wasn't a problem, he thought, it gave him more time to look for his cane without worrying about Elias breathing down his neck about the archives. 

Jon decided to start his search in his office, otherwise known as the Archives. He checked to see if he left it propped up against his desk. Nope. He checked to see if it was propped up against the various shelves that held different archived statements. Still no. He checked stray boxes full of still unread statements and even checked in between the filed statements lining the shelves. If it was a cruel joke Tim had thought up, he couldn't leave any stone unturned. Despite all of his looking, his cane was no where to be found. After he was done, he checked the clock hung on the wall of the Archive. It was already 7:10. Cautiously, Jon peered out of the threshold of his office. Down the corridor near the front door, Rosie was behind the front desk, reading. She must have seen his head poking out from the corner of her eye, because she put her book down, locked eyes with his, and waved at him. Jon awkwardly waved back and moved his head back inside. Apparently Rosie also had sharp vision, which Jon made a mental note of. She was always a mystery.

Suddenly, Jon heard the front door open, letting in a cold chill that he felt even inside his office. He heard Martin's voice from down the hall, and his heartbeat quickened. It seemed him and Rosie were having a conversation, so Jon risked peeking his head out again, making sure to shield a majority of his face from view. 

Jon didn't know what he expected to see, but he certainly didn't expect to see Martin holding his cane in both hands. Jon's stomach plummeted when he saw it. It was certainly his cane, the stripes being noticeable even from down the long corridor. Why did Martin have it? He and Rosie were still talking, but Jon couldn't make out their words. And then Rosie pointed down the hall, seemingly to alert Martin to Jon's presence. Jon felt his cheeks burn when he saw Martin turn his head to see him. He darted back into his office, shutting the door and locking it. He walked to his desk and sat in the chair, the hinges squeaking slightly. He had no idea why he was doing this. Martin had his cane. He needed his cane. So why was he hiding? As he thought through his dilemma, a knock came from outside.

"Jon? Are you there?" Martin's muffled voice could be heard through the wood of the door. "I have your cane."

"Just leave it at the door, Martin!" Jon struggled to get the words out, warmness overwhelming his entire body. Why was he feeling like this? A clunk outside the door cut through Jon's thoughts, and then he heard footsteps receding down the hall. It seemed like Martin had heeded his request. Jon felt a pang of sadness at this, but he didn't give it much attention as he unlocked the door, opened it, and heard something that sounded wooden fall to the floor. He walked into the corridor and saw his cane on the ground. As soon as he did, he hurriedly picked it up and walked back into his office. Closing the door, he began to examine the piece of wood that he so heavily depended on. 

Something was different about it. Across the shaft, something was written in red marker, probably so it would be noticeable against the purple. It just said "Martin". He had signed it like people signed others' casts in primary school. Looking at it, instead of feeling annoyance like he would usually feel at Martin's antics, Jon felt a small smile tug at his lips. It was a childish gesture, but also an incredibly sweet one. 

Jon used his cane to walk to his desk, sitting back down and propping it up against the side of the desk. He dug through one of the desk drawers until he felt the familiar texture of his tape recorder. Pulling it out, he then grabbed one of the boxes that held already investigated statements in it and set it on his lap. Digging through, he settled on one that he guessed wouldn't be incredibly boring to listen to, placed the box back on top of his desk, and pressed the record button on the tape.


End file.
